Untitled For Now
by Unquestionably Unhinged
Summary: MI-6 has a new Linguist and she's damn good at it too. But when MI-6 is overrun and she is taken prisoner, she may start to regret taking the job. Contains spoilers for Skyfall Silva/OC
1. The Beginning

**Hey, U-Hinged here. I am now totally into James Bond and I recently went to see Skyfall for the SECOND time! I love that movie.**

**Well here goes... I DO NOT own Skyfall or any other James Bond Title or Character, they all belong to Ian Fleming (lucky)**

**Enjoy**

* * *

Sitting in his chair in front of his computer, sipping a cup of Earl Gray, Q stared at the screen, trying to decipher the complex code before him. One problem though, it was in a language he had never seen before.

Language was not his job, never had been and never would be, so he never really saw any point in learning any language other than a little bit of French and a tad bit of German.

But waiting for hours on end for the most infuriating Linguist in MI-6 was making him regret not learning. She was the best, no doubt about it, the best in the world and God did she know it. Finally, he slammed his laptop shut and rose, seething.

"This is ridiculous. Where the hell is L?"

* * *

"Remember what I taught you. Don't lean too far to your left."

"I'll try."

_BANG_

"Again"

_BANG_

"Again"

_BANG_

"One more time"

_BANG_

_BANG_

_BANG_

"I said _one _more, not three."

Deep in the basement of the newly rebuilt MI-6, James Bond watched as the newly hired Linguist shot, or tried to shoot, the target across the way. Every time she shot, her hands would twitch sharply, sending the bullet in a completely different direction. L ran her hands through her closely cropped red hair.

"Damn, every time!"

"Here, I'll show you."

Bond walked up behind her, closing the gap between them. His callused hands encased her fragile, petite ones with ease. He aimed her hands at the target.

"You've got to relax your shoulders, ease up on the grip, there you go. Control your breathing. In. Out. And…FIRE!"

His fingers squeezed hers slightly causing her to pull the trigger. The bullet shot from the gun and hit the target square in the head.

"There, that wasn't so hard, was it?" he whispered in her ear.

"Ease up on the grip, Bond." L huffed as the heat reached her cheeks. James chuckled and stepped back.

"Now let's see _you_ do it."

L stared at the target, eased her grip on the gun and relaxed her shoulders. In. Out. And-

"THERE YOU ARE!"

Spinning around, L pulled the trigger and fired at the furious Quartermaster, causing both him and James to leap to the floor. The bullet ricocheted off the walls of the room before shooting through the crotch of the cardboard target. Slowly, carefully standing up, Q's face regained its look of fury.

"What the hell are you doing down here, L. I've been waiting for hours for you to decipher that code."

James stood up and dusted his suit off before fixing Q with a look.

"She was practicing, god knows she needs it."

"Hey."

"Ever since _he_ got away, no one is safe in MI-6."

Q looked down at his shoes and scratched nervously at the back of his head. It had been quite a blunder on the part of MI-6, letting a criminal of that caliber just waltz out of Scotland. Terrible luck really.

_Flashback_

_James stared down at the lifeless body of M in his arms and sighed, wiping away the stray tears from his already dirty face. She looked peaceful as he watched her, and so it should be. She had done her country a great service for many years. But it wasn't about the country. Not about England, her queen or any of it she was just trying to make the world a safer place and she had gotten killed for it. _

_The sound of choppers filled the air from outside. He picked up her small, frail body and left the chapel, not sparing one glance at the dead man on the floor. As he walked back out into the open air of Scotland, he saw Mallory running up the hill towards him, closely followed by a medical team. _

_Mallory stopped when he saw the look on James's face, then his eyes trailed down towards the lifeless body of the former leader. He swallowed the lump in his throat and jerked his head towards the chopper._

"_Let's get you back to headquarters."_

_Putting M's body on the stretcher, the medics covered it with a white sheet and led it away to the chopper. _

"_Can you…give me a moment, Mallory?" James asked. Jerking his thumb towards the chapel he said, "There's something I've got to do." _

_Mallory nodded and started back towards the medical team. James trudged back up the hill and towards the Chapel. When he entered it, his eyes widened at the sight before him. Kincade lay unconscious on the floor, knocked out by the butt of a gun and the body of Raoul Silva was nowhere to be found. James raced to the window to look outside at where he had gone but a dense fog was already descending on the whole of Scotland. Hopping through the window, he raced through the fog, looking every which way._

"_SILVA"_

_He was met with nothing but silence._

"_SILVA, YOU BASTARD! WHERE ARE YOU?"_

"_Bond, what's wrong?" shouted Mallory as he ran towards the screaming agent. _

"_He's gone, Mallory."_

"_Who?"_

"_Silva, he's knocked out Kincade and disappeared."_

"_We'll take care of it once we get back to base."_

"_But-"_

"_Now, Bond."_

_James shoved his hands in his pockets and followed Mallory back towards the Helicopters, sparing one last glance out into the fog._

_End Flashback_

"Yes, a bit of bad luck there," Q muttered, wringing his hands.

"More than a _bit _I'd say." L responded, looking pointedly at Q. "Though you'll catch him, I'm sure."

"I would have caught him already if I hadn't been reassigned."

"What?"

Bond took the gun from L and put it on the table.

"I've got another assignment in Italy, which reminds me." He walked up the stairs to Q. "You need to debrief me."

"Right, and you-" Q sneered at L. "Don't think your getting off so easy. The computer is in my office, the door is unlocked. Do. It. _Now_."

"Aye-Aye Captain!"

After the two men exited the room, L went back to the table and picked up the gun. She stood at the centre of the room and aimed at the target. She eased her grip on the gun and relaxed her shoulders. In. Out. And-

_BANG_

Staring from behind the smoking gun, L looked to where her bullet had gone and lo and behold there was a hole dead centre of the targets head. She smiled to herself and placed he gun back on the table before running out to decipher Q's code.

From the darkest corner of the room, a figure stepped out, clad in a janitors uniform. The mysterious man grinned maniacally and an all to familiar chuckle escaped his lips. He sighed to himself.

"So old fashioned."

* * *

***Laughs Maniacally* So what do you think!? Review!**


	2. A Look Back in Time

**Chapter 2 of my fantastic story. Thank you Mick and Hewo, my anon reviewers! **

**And here's this nonsensical business again. *Ahem***

**I do not own the James Bond franchise or any characters forthwith. I only own L.**

**Enjoy**

* * *

Plugging her USB into Q's computer, L sat down and cracked her knuckles.

"Time to get to work."

The code was relatively simple; she didn't see why Q couldn't do it himself. Staring at the screen, she found it was a type of ancient language, Japanese most likely, no doubt sent from one of the more well known gangs. L scanned through the language, easily translating it and was done in just under an hour.

'_Not bad.' _she thought to herself.

As she waited for the copy of the page to print, she sat back in Q's chair and thought about how she had gotten into all this "secret agent" business. She had just been a normal little girl born into a wealthy Irish family. She never really noticed or cared where her father went every weekend or why her mother was so upset all the time.

Whenever her parents got into arguments, she would always run down the hill outside her house and into the forest until she was sure they were done. Yes, she had always been a happy child. But like all those who joined MI-6, the happiness did not last long.

_Flashback_

_A seven year old L ran through her house, her braids flying out behind her as she flew through every door._

'_Wait till mommy and daddy see my braids.' she thought. 'I did them all by myself.'_

_She reached the door to the main foyer and threw it open._

"_Mommy, Daddy, look what I-"_

_She stopped and stared at the scene before her. Her mother had her head in her hands and was sobbing uncontrollably while her father paced menacingly across the room. Something was horribly wrong, even L could tell that. Her mother looked up at her with horror before looking to her husband._

"_Philip, we can't let them know she's here!" her mother cried._

"_Let who know?" L asked. "What's wrong mummy?"_

"_Nothing sweetie," her father answered. "Don't worry Abigail; we'll get her out of-"_

_Suddenly there was a loud bang on the door and her parents head whipped to it in terror. Her father turned back to L and gripped her shoulders as the banging continued._

"_Sweetheart…run."_

_Not two seconds later, the door burst open with a huge CRACK. L didn't need to be told twice as she ran as fast as she could back through the door she came from. She stopped to catch her breath when she started to hear shouting coming from the room. She stared through the crack of the door, watching the scene unfold before her._

_Two tall muscular men held the arms of her father while another one held a gun to her mother. Soon, the clicking of heels echoed through the house. A very well dressed man entered the room, his expensive shoes clacking away on the stone floor. He neared her father and pulled out a knife, holding it to his throat. L swallowed the lump forming in her throat._

"_I'd hoped it wouldn't have to come to this Philip." the man said, "You said you'd have the money to me by the end of this week."_

"_And I will, I still have two more days, I'll get it to you, just please, let my wife go!" he pleaded desperately._

_The man stepped back and shook his head almost sadly._

"_It's too late for that, Philip. Ah, I hoped it wouldn't have to come to this. I like you Philip. I don't want to do this, but you really give me no choice."_

_The man nodded to the burly man holding the gun to her mothers head. L watched as her father began to shout out and struggle against the men holding him. _

'_What's happening?' L thought. 'Why is mommy crying? Don't cry mommy, I don't like it when you-'_

_BANG_

_Philip was screaming now, crying and trying to battle his way out of the hold of the men holding him back from the body of his wife. L just stared from her hiding spot. She didn't want to stay anymore. Backing away from the door, she tried to make her way upstairs, but something completely cliché happened. A loose floorboard creaked. _

"_What was that?" the expensive man shouted. "Kemp, go check it out."_

_Kemp, the man with the gun, started walking towards L's hiding place and she began to back up, but it was too late, she had nowhere to go. The door flew open and L found herself staring into the eyes of the mountain of a man. He reached down and picked her up, almost dragging her out of the room as she kicked and screamed._

"_It's a kid boss."_

"_Oh a kid? You got a kid, eh Philip?"_

"_DON'T YOU TOUCH HER!"_

"_You know what I'll do, Philip? I'll let you keep your life and since you can't pay, I'll just take the kid."_

"_YOU BASTARD!" Philip shouted. Kicking his two captors in the knees, Philip jumped forward, releasing himself from their grip and ran at the expensively dressed man. But before he could make it two steps-_

_BANG_

_Philip fell dead to the floor, the man sneering down at his dead body. _

"_C'mon boys lets get outta here. Bring the kid."_

_And so young L was forcefully dragged out of her house at the age of seven, screaming for her dead parents, by men she had never seen before._

_End Flashback_

Shaking the depressing thoughts from her head, L grabbed the paper from the printer and walked out of the office.

'That was a long time ago.' she thought to herself. 'I've changed since then.'

She walked down the hall and saw Q walking towards her. She met him halfway.

"Well, it seems that a few Japanese terrorist are going to try to blow up Big Ben. I'd get on that if I were you." She said shoving the paper into his chest and walking away, leaving him baffled.

L walked into the office of her friend Eve Moneypenny. "I'm heading home, Eve. Call if you need anything."

"Always will, L. See you."

* * *

Later that evening

Climbing out of the shower, L dried her hair with her towel and slipped into her pajamas. (A Christmas present from James) Suddenly, she heard a knock at the door.

"Who would come around at this time of night?"

Opening the door, she saw a tall, well built man in a UPS uniform. His hat was pulled down over his face and he held out a clipboard.

"A package Miss." The man said. Spain, L thought. She took the clipboard and signed it. The man's eyes roamed her body from under the brim of his hat and smiled slightly. Noticing the man's roving eyes and smile, L huffed.

"Is something funny?"

"No," he chuckled. "Nothing at all, Miss."

"Then there's nothing to laugh about, is there?" she sneered, grabbing the box from the man and slamming the door in his face. He blinked a couple of times after the door had slammed and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. But sighing dramatically and shrugging his broad shoulders, he walked back down the hall and into the elevator.

Inside the apartment L walked over to her table and opened the box but found nothing inside.

"What the hell?"

Rushing to open the door again, she found that the man had gone, and just like the man, she sighed dramatically, shrugged her shoulders and slammed the door again.

* * *

**Yeah, a lot of flashbacks in my story so far, but I gotta tell the story somehow. Any suggestions would be awesome and feedback is great! Review!**

**~U-Hinged**


	3. Too Much of a Liability

**Here's the third chapter to my AMAZING story. *yeah, I have a huge ego***

**Shout outs: **

**LilyLunaPotter142 Yes L is a poor girl but it will only get worse for her form here on out.**

**fatpandakate Twists are fun. I've made him kind of a mother hen, if you know what I mean.**

**and my anon reveiwer Anii! YOU GUYS ROCK!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the James Bond Franchise. I do own L and Mr. Gregory Wells**

* * *

L stood by Q in Q branch, both of them working furiously on a code they had intercepted. Silently behind them, M watched, arms folded and brow furrowed. L kept staring back at him and turning away swiftly.

Tanner came into the room and whispered something to M, something that caused him to look surprised for a moment, confused the next and nodding finally, they both exited the room. Once they were gone, L let out a sigh of relief.

"Thank God. If he had stayed here a moment longer I would have had an aneurism."

Q chuckled lightly as he worked.

"You've never worked in front of the new M, have you?"

"Is it that obvious?" she quipped sarcastically.

"He's not that bad you know, actually quite a ripe fellow."

"What?!"

Q stopped working for a second to think about what he had said. He had just called his boss ripe. He put his head in his hands and groaned as L roared with laughter.

"That's not what I meant." Q growled his cheeks tinged with pink.

"Sure it wasn't." L giggled.

As quickly as they went back to working, M stepped back inside with Tanner, looking mighty pissed.

"Q, L, here now."

They both looked at each other confused before Q put someone else in charge they followed M out the door.

"What is this about sir?" Q asked, running to match M's long, furious strides.

"It would seem that the Prime Minister has sent us Psychologist, without informing us, to come in and assess the readiness of agents in the workplace."

"So they're here to debunk us." L stated.

"Exactly."

They finally reached M's office and when they entered it, they were surprised by what they saw. Inside was a tall man in a tweed jacket and a bowtie wearing a pair of horned rimmed glasses. His thin brown hair was combed back and he smiled wide when they entered.

"Mr. Wells, these are our top analysts, Q, L this is Mr. Gregory Wells."

"A pleasure, I'm sure." Q said shaking the man's hand.

"Indeed Mr. Wells, a pleasure." L followed suit.

Best not to antagonize a spy from the PM, though this man didn't look like he could hurt a fly. He put even Q's depressing bookworm ensemble to shame. L came to the conclusion that he was what every good agent in the MI-6 dreaded being, a kiss ass.

"Now, Mr. Wells would like to ask you each a series of questions. Mr. Wells?"

"Ah, yes. Uh, do you mind if I do it privately? With each one?"

You could tell by the look on M's face that he did mind. He minded terribly, but he calmed himself and smiled at the man.

"Of course not."

"Fantastic, Mr. Q, if you'd like to be first?" he gestured to the plush leather chair opposite him and Q took his seat. M and L left the office, L purposely ignoring Q's pleading looks.

As soon as he shut the door, M began to pace angrily around the room.

"This is absolutely ridiculous! Who the hell does she think she is?"

L looked at him as she sat in a nearby seat and grinned.

"Don't tell anyone, but I _think_ she thinks she's the PM."

M shot her a look and she put up her hands in defense. He sighed and sat next to her, putting his head in his hands.

"_She_ would have known what to do."

"_She _would have kicked that tit the hell out of her office."

He chuckled quietly before letting out a depressed sigh.

"I'll never have the respect she did."

_SLAP_

M fell to the floor, looking wildly around and fixing on L's burning gaze.

"What are you doing!? You're supposed to be M, the fearsome leader of MI-6! Not some self pitying moron, which incidentally also starts with M." she was shouting now. "You want the respect she got? Then you have to work for it. Get off the bloody rug and hitch a ride on the bleeding bandwagon."

M stared at her with wide eyes.

"You slapped me."

"Yes."

He glared daggers at her and lifted himself off the floor.

"You ever do that again and I'll have you deported to Syria."

L grinned. "Yes sir."

All of a sudden, M's door was thrown open and a fuming Q exited the room. He walked straight past M and L, muttering curses. He kicked open the next door and slammed it shut behind him.

"Miss L," came Wells voice from within M's office. "your next."

"Great." L muttered as she entered the office.

She closed the door behind her and sat opposite Wells. He stared at her for a while before writing on his notepad.

"So miss L-"

"Just L, please."

He gave her an almost irritated look and scratched something down in his notebook again.

"Well _miss_ L, can you tell me how long you've been working here?"

"5 years"

"And you are the Linguist?"

"That's what L stands for, isn't it?" she bit back, not missing the added _miss _at the start of the conversation.

He took off his glasses and stared at her again, longer this time. L began to feel uncomfortable but she didn't show it, instead she narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips.

"Are you here to ask me questions or are you going to stare at me the entire time?"

"You are a very beautiful woman, Miss L."

L's mouth fell open. She had not been expecting that, not at all. Wells smiled at her reaction.

"It would be a shame if that pretty face got scratched." he said, feigning disappointment.

So that was it, was it? As quickly as it had come, L's surprised face was gone, replaced with a look of utter fury. Wells stood up and walked closer to her.

"This is a man's world, Miss L. I've read your file, kidnapped, parents killed, sold, bought, I'd say that would make anyone emotionally compromised, wouldn't you?"

L sat there, fuming as Wells talked on.

"I mean look at the former M. She was weak, emotional, a woman, and now where is she?"

"Don't you dare."

"She's dead."

_SMACK_

L stood, balled fists at her sides and a shouting Wells on the floor, clutching his more than likely broken nose.

"How _dare_ you speak of her that way. She was more respected than you or your precious Prime Minister will _ever_ be!"

"I think it's time for you to leave, Mr. Wells." came a calm, stern voice.

The door stood wide open with M leaning on the frame. Wells stared form him to L, grabbed his suitcase and kinda ran/hobbled out the door, still clutching his broken nose.

L watched the chauvinist pig leave the room and chuckled.

"What an ass."

* * *

"What the hell were you thinking, sending a cock up like that into my organization?"

"_I beg your pardon?"_

"You know what I'm on about. You sent in that buggering psychologist."

"_M, I never sent any psychologist."_

M paused and stared at the phone in confusion.

"What do you mean, you never sent him. He was here; he said he was from you."

"_I'm telling you M, I did not send any psychologist into MI-6."_

* * *

Gregory Wells staggered through the halls of MI-6 until he reached the elevator. Pressing the button, he waited and tried to crack his nose back into place. The elevator dinged and he entered.

"That crazy hag." he muttered as he looked in the mirror. "She broke my bloody nose!"

Pressing the button for the basement, the elevator started to descend. Wells wasn't leaving MI-6 just yet. He had to report. The elevator opened and he looked around. The basement was dark and eerily silent.

"Hello?" he called out.

"Hello Gregory." a sultry voice spoke from behind him and he jumped.

Turning around, he saw the man who had hired him. He was broad shouldered and his blonde hair was combed neatly, save for some in his eye.

"You look awful." The Spanish man said, walking into the light.

"It was that bloody Linguist. She broke my nose."

The man looked thoughtfully for a moment before nodding.

"Are we ready?" he asked.

"Yes, it's all been arranged."

"Very good." the man pulled out a pistol and a silencer.

"Uh, w-what's th-that?" Wells asked nervously and pointed to the gun.

"What?" the man asked. "Oh, this?"

Wells nodded.

"Well, it would seem," he said as he put the silencer on the gun, "that you have become a liability."

Wells began to back up, panic written on his face. Finally he just turned and ran as fast as he could back to the elevator.

_BANG_

Wells fell to the ground, blood pooling around his body and a gunshot in his head. The man sighed, unscrewed the silencer and put the gun in his belt. Stepping over Wells and being careful to keep his shoes away from the blood, he entered the elevator.

"Get ready MI-6. Because here. I…come."

* * *

**The plot thickens! Sorry if M is kinda OOC in this chapter at the beginning but he just got a new job, so leave the poor guy alone. Also, portraying Gregory Wells is...Christopher Eccleston! He's just to cool, but I had to kill him off. He was too much of a liability. **

**Also, watch out, next chapter is where things start to get seriously Silva.**

**Reveiw cause YOU want to!**

**~U-Hinged**


	4. Can't Trust You're Kidnappers

**Yoyo, fourth chapter. Yeah, I was going to see Rise of the Guardians today, but my friend kinda canceled so I spent the day finishing this bad boy. Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the James Bond franchise. I only own L.**

* * *

L ran through the corridors of MI-6, red lights illuminating her face and sirens filling her ears. Agents were everywhere and L had to shove her way past each and every one of them. She had to find Q; he would know what was happening.

Finally, she reached Q branch. Everyone was running about like chickens with their head cut off and in the centre of the chaos, the main Cock, his face red and his voice raw with shouting.

"Triangulate those co-ordinates! Don't you dare back talk me, Smyth, do it NOW!"

Rushing forward, L threw off her pea coat and joined Q at the front.

"Alright, someone tell me what the hell is going on!" L demanded.

"Thank God you're here. Someone's hacking into the system. MI-6 is being overrun."

"Well where the hell is Bond?"

"Fiji"

"Great"

"_What the hell is happening?!"_

They both turned sharply to see M stalking towards them, fury etched on his face. Both Q and L visibly tensed as he approached.

"Sir-"

"Oh shut up and tell me what the bloody hell is happening."

"Well it seems," Q started, wringing his hands, "it seems we are-are being o-over r-run.

M put his hands on his hips and turned to face Q.

"Yes I know that. I mean why the bloody hell isn't anything being done about it?"

"We're doing all we can, sir."

"Well, obviously that's not enough."

L had become distracted from the conversation when she heard quite a bit of shouting from the other side of the door of Q branch. Heading steadily over to it, she pressed her ear against the door and listened.

"We're in the centre of the bleeding _SECRET SERVICE_ full of specially trained secret agents and no one is doing _ANYTHING_ about this!" M was shouting now.

From behind the door, L heard raised voices, a gun firing and a hard _THUMP _on the floor followed by the sound of someone putting something down and feet rushing away. Then she heard what she would regret hearing for the rest of her life.

_Tick_

_Tick_

_Tick_

Pulling away from the door as fast as she could, L began to run to the other end of the room.

_Tick _

_Tick_

"EVERYONE GET DOWN!"

_Tick_

…

_BOOM_

L threw herself to the floor just in time. The bomb blew the door straight off its hinges while at the same time blowing back some people. A harsh, high-pitched ringing filled L's ears and she looked up from the ground. Debris was scattered everywhere and dust filled the air.

She could see M and Q on the ground, both unconscious and as the dust started to clear she saw many men enter the room. A couple of them grabbed hold of M's arms and started dragging him out of the room, closely followed by other men dragging out Q, but she could not see their faces.

She did, however, manage to push herself to her feet and stagger away from the rubble, even with the darkness beginning to shroud her every move. She made it out into the hallway and moved down it, by leaning against the wall. She saw bodies everywhere but they weren't dead. No, it would seem that the guns the offenders had used were...tranquilizers?

"Help." she called out in a weak voice. "Somebody, please."

Eventually, she sank to the floor against the wall. Before she was fully unconscious, however she managed to catch quite a bit. She saw a man walking down the hallway, followed by many more. He was different though, he walked with an air of authority. Sadly all she saw of the man were his expensive Italian loafers which were stepping through the debris with ease.

As soon as the man made it past her, he paused for a moment and it looked to L like he was caught by surprise. Then he turned swiftly on his heel so that he was facing her. Slowly, he began to saunter over to where she lay and stopped not far from her face.

The man kneeled down but she did not have the strength to look up at him. She felt his hands caress her cheek for a moment. His hands felt quite a bit like James's, rough and callused, though trying too hard to be gentle.

As he moved his hand in small circles, she flinched away from it, leaving it hanging in the air where her face was previously. He chuckled, a very familiar chuckle before turning to his men.

"I'll take this one." he said in an also familiar Spanish accent.

The last thing she felt before slipping into unconsciousness was strong arms reaching underneath her knees and torso, lifting her up. She tried to struggle against it but when she did, the grip the man had on her became tighter.

"Now none of that." he whispered as if to a child.

"You sick bastard." she wheezed as she slipped into unconsciousness, his laughter ringing in her ears.

* * *

**L's POV**

It's dark. Wrists hurt, tied with rope. Pain, head, arms legs, ribs. Everywhere.

Light. I turn away. Turn it off. Burning eyes.

Men enter. Go away. They speak, I can't hear them. Ears ringing. Go away.

Knife. Put it away. Coming closer. Cutting. Screaming.

Someone help. Hurting. Bleeding. Go away.

Men leave. Light gone. It's dark. Slipping away.

Someone. Anyone. Help.

* * *

**Normal POV**

"L"

Her head snapped up at the sound of her name. She looked around and saw she was in a different room. Well, more of a cell than a room. L looked out through the bars and saw Q staring at her from his own cell.

"Q? Where are we?"

"I don't know, but they have M. They took him out of here a while ago and haven't brought him back."

L stepped away from the bars and sat up against the wall of the cell. She put her head in her hands, letting a single tear roll down her face. She didn't have time to get into real sobbing because just then the door leading to the two cells swung open and an armed man came in. He opened up Q's cell and hauled him out by the scruff of the neck.

"Hey asshole! What the hell do you think you're doing?!" L shouted at him.

"Shut up wretch!" he said, pointing his gun at her. "The boss wants to 'ave a word with you. Private like."

"Private like? Blimey, where'd you go to school, the fish market?"

_BANG_

The bullet ricocheted off the bars but it was enough to frighten L into silence. The man grinned a gap tooth grin and dragged Q out the door.

"You'll be fine L." Q whispered. "Remember, you're an agent."

They left the door open and L thought they had just done it by accident, though lo and behold a man entered, one with the same air of confidence and authority as before. The door swung shut behind him and he just stood there for a moment. Then he flicked on a light she hadn't known existed until now. He turned and began walking towards her cell.

L got a really good look at him now. He had a chiseled face, with blonde hair neatly combed out of it. He had dark brown eyes and his shoulders were wide. Suffice to say, compared to L, he was a very big man. As he neared her cell, she scrambled backwards. He knelt down and stared at her through his lashes, almost like she were a dog he was asking to come.

_'Well, if he wants an animal,'_ L thought bitterly. _'That's what he'll get.'_

"Come over here." the Spanish man said suddenly.

"Shove it up you're ass." she growled.

He sighed and started to fish around in his pocket. L watched him wearily from her place on the floor and her eyes widened when he produced a small key. He put it in the lock and turned it, swinging to door open. He strode over to where L was crouched and she had just enough time to push herself into the corner. He knelt down in front of her and smiled. It would have been a nice smile if L hadn't known of its underlying nefarious purposes.

"Hello"

L narrowed her eyes at him and said nothing.

"Why so defensive?" he feigned confusion.

"Oh, I don't know. I'm don't usually trust my kidnappers. Don't know why." she answered snidely.

He nodded his head thoughtfully and looked away momentarily. L eyes the open cell door warily, not sure if he left it open on purpose or not. Still, she thought, it might be my only way out for a while. But before she had time to book it through the door, another man came in, except he was holding a large needle. Her eyes widened even more as he handed it to the Spaniard and he flicked it carefully, making sure there weren't any air bubbles.

"Now this may pinch a _little _bit."

As he brought it closer to her, she panicked and thrashed out, knocking the needle to the ground. Then her leg whipped out kicking the man right in the face and probably giving him whiplash. He crouched on the ground, clutching his bleeding face and she rushed past him through the cage door. She made it out of the room of cells only to enter a room full of poker playing guards.

For a moment she just stood there, staring at them as they stared back. Then she turned to go back into the room only to come face to face with a large, muscular, black clad chest. She looked up at the man, his blonde hair was no longer neat but wild and out of place and blood dripped from his nose and mouth.

"Oh"

He pulled her back into the room and slammed the door shut, then he threw her back into the cell and shoved her against the wall. He grabbed her arm and held it out, pulling the needle out again. She thrashed wildly.

"The more you move, the more painful I will make this." he hissed suddenly. L stopped moving.

He injected the unknown liquid into her arm before letting her fall back to the ground. He knelt down in front of her and smiled again.

"Now this is only temporary. Soon you will be back in your precious MI-6 and you will forget all this ever happened. But until then, sleep well."

L once again began to slip into unconsciousness and the last thing she heard was the shutting of the only escape route she had, not that she could do much now anyway.

* * *

M sat tied to a chair in a darkened room. His eyes darted around, looking for his kidnappers or anything that would give away their location. He found nothing. The door of the room opened and the blonde man entered again, except this time he was much more disheveled than before.

"Good god, what happened to you?" M asked. Keep cool, he thought.

The man chuckled and shook his finger at M.

"You're little Linguist."

M smirked. Leave it to L to worsen the situation for herself. The room went quiet as the blonde man turned to grab a chair from the corner of the room.

"Silva, isn't it?" M called out. The blonde man froze. "I'm not sure we've been formally introduced, save for that little shooing match at Parliament. The name's M."

* * *

**Oh M you suave dog. Review if you like this story cause I will love you if you do! Plus, any ideas for upcoming chapters are more than welcome!**

**~U-Hinged**


	5. A Plan of Sorts

**Alright here we go...**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but L. Done**

**Enjoy**

* * *

It had been two days since the kidnapping and L was still adjusting. By adjusting, of course I mean learning how _not_ to make smart ass remarks to men bigger than her or to men who had blunt objects on hand.

And for all the hard work she put into adjusting, all she had to show for it was a black eye, a broken nose and a couple of cracked ribs, which really put a hindrance on breathing and all that. But other than that, she grew quite comfortable in the small cell, much to the annoyance of her captor. It was during an interrogation that L finally found a crack in the armor of her foe.

"It seems to me that you don't want your freedom." he had said to her while she was tied to an uncomfortable wooden chair.

"You haven't offered it to me." L replied.

Silva chuckled as he pulled up a chair and sat across from her.

"What made you join MI-6?" he asked with genuine curiosity. A lump formed in the throat.

"That's classified."

"Is it?" he purred. "I've read all about you, your team, the incident in Bermuda-"

L's laughter filled the small room and Silva looked at her, confused.

"You talk like it's such a big deal. Well guess what, tough guy; I've done my homework too."

"What?"

"Oh yeah, I know all about M's little transaction with the Chinese. Personally, I'm behind her 100%-"

_SLAP_

Silva's face was a picture of fury, embarrassment and pain. He leaned forward, grabbing her face roughly.

"You know _nothing_ about it! _Nothing_!" and with that, he stalked angrily out of the room leaving behind a bewildered L.

And so now she sat in her cell inspecting her nails and waiting for another guard to come and beat the tar out of her. But the next person that entered was not a guard.

"What do you want?" she sneered.

Silva stood just outside her cell, crouched down and staring straight into her eyes.

"Would you like to take a walk?" he asked playfully.

"Oh, do I get a pretty leash too?" L asked with sarcastic excitement.

He chuckled as he unlocked the cell door and opened it. He stepped inside and bent down in front of her, causing her to shy away.

"Give me your hands."

"Why?"

He held up a pair of handcuffs he had somehow fit into his pocket.

"Oh."

He secured the handcuffs on her wrists and pulled her to her feet, being sure to keep a firm hand on the small of her back. He guided her out of the room with the cells and down a long, dark corridor.

"Do you remember when I told you I would send you back to your precious MI-6?" his voice echoed through the hall.

"I seem to remember such a thing being said."

"Well, it was never truly my intent to kidnap you or anyone else. I was...actually looking for someone."

"Bond" she stated. He looked at her and smiled.

"Why yes, you clever girl."

"So what? You want to kidnap James Bond?" L chuckled. "Good luck with that, he's the best damn agent MI-6 has ever seen." Silva scowled at this and L ignored it. "Plus he doesn't trust anybody he doesn't know."

"Unless he already knows them."

"Even then there are-" L looked over at him, slowly catching what he meant. "Oh no. No, no, no! No way!"

Silva sighed, he flicked on the light and L gasped at what she saw.

Q and M were kneeling on the floor, hands tied behind their heads and blindfolded. Two guards stood over them, guns poised at their heads ready to fire. Silva smiled at her expression before leaning against the wall.

"Now, what were you saying?"

The grin on his face completely gave away his apparent glee. L looked over at him and glared at him, practically burning holes in his face.

"Ooo, if looks could kill." Silva moaned.

"You'd be writhing on the floor." she hissed. Silva clutched his heart in false pain.

"So what are my options here?" L asked, still staring at her colleagues.

"You do this favor for me and you are all free to go. You don't and I tell these fine men to shoot them both in the head."

"Not great options."

He shrugged his broad shoulders and patiently waited for her answer.

"You really are one sick bastard." Silva chuckled at this and moved around so he stood directly behind her. She could feel his warm breath behind her ear and shivered slightly.

"What is your answer?" he whispered.

L was silent and stiff, her breathing ragged and eyes wide and flickering. She didn't know what to do, she couldn't betray her nation but she also couldn't leave her superiors here to die. Suddenly an idea hit her like a lead brick.

"Alright," she whispered back, feigning resignation. Silva smiled widely behind her, bringing his lips to her ear.

"Good, let's get to work."

* * *

Three hours later, L stood over a table with a blueprint of the entire street. Her hands were no longer cuffed and she loomed over the paper. It would seem to anyone who looked at her that she was thinking of ways to get into the building. Quite the contrary though, in reality her brain was a torrent of ideas of just how to get out of this mess she had gotten herself into. Sure she had an idea; a fantastic idea when you think about it, but how exactly to carry it out was the problem.

And having Silva watch your every single move was not helping her relax in the least. He watched from a distance, leaning on the side of a table with a tiny smile playing on his lips. Every once in a while, L would look back, to see if he was still there, and every time he would give her a little wave. No, he was not helping her situation.

"Hey Spaniard," she called to Silva, "come on over here and make yourself useful!"

He got off the table and strutted over to her, putting his hands on her waist and looking over her shoulder at the blueprints.

"Hands off boss man."

He smirked and let go of her, moving to stand beside her.

"Alright, so what you want to do is get Bond out in the open and unarmed."

"Are you sure that's what I want?"

"Well, it's what you're gonna get, so be happy with it." Cue another chuckle from Silva.

"Alright, so I suggest you station men on these two rooftops," she pointed to two of the buildings close to MI-6. "And then your men can move up through here and _BANG-_"

Silva jumped as L slammed her fist on the table.

"You've got 'im."

Silva nodded to her, "yes, yes that's fine."

"Fine? Fine, what do you mean fine? Let me remind you I'm doing this against my will, so it better be more than just _FINE_!"

He smiled at her like a father would his child when he is appraising a drawing. He put his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes.

"It is fantastic." L had to look down to hide her blush.

"Yeah well, it's something."

* * *

The rest of the day was spent planning L's great betrayal. She mapped out exactly where she would come out with Bond, where his snipers would be and when the van would roll up. Somewhere within that time period, she began to yawn and Silva took notice.

"You must be tired." he said from beside her.

"It's never stopped me before." she yawned.

"Well it is stopping me. Come."

"But I-"

_"Come"_

"Yes oh great master." she muttered, sticking her hands in her pockets and sulking behind him. He led her through a number of hallways until they reached a staircase. They walked up the staircase and L's jaw dropped when Silva opened the door.

"This entire time we were in the basement of a mansion?"

Silva had already walked halfway across the lobby while she stared. He turned back and smiled quickly before adopting a stern look.

"Follow me."

As they stepped through a large corridor, Silva looked over at his companion and her dark red hair. She was unattractive, on the contrary she was very pretty, in his opinion and easy to manipulate.

"You might be pleased to know that your friends have been set free." L stopped in the middle of the hallway and stared at the blond man.

"What?"

"Yes, a little while ago, we dropped them off at the doors of your agency."

"I see."

"Come along."

L couldn't help but think that it would be so much easier to carry out her plan now that Q and M were gone and safe. Slightly too easy. She would still have to be careful.

"You will sleep in the bedroom next to mine." Silva opened the door for her and she stepped in, taken aback by the beautiful décor.

"You really know how to treat your prisoners, huh?" a low laugh was heard before a swift-

"Goodnight."

He closed the door and L heard the soft click of the lock. Of course he locked her in, why wouldn't you? She padded over to the window, and finding it locked as well proceeded to look at the glass.

"Bullet proof, no way I'm getting through that. Smart man, Silva."

She looked around quickly, making sure no one was around, hiding in her pantry or anything and pealed off her dirty, blood stained clothes. she entered the bathroom and took a long, hot shower. After said shower, she came out of the steaming bathroom and checked the oak wardrobe in the corner. All the clothes were her size.

"Creepy."

She took out a lovely silk night gown and shrugged, putting it on. L climbed into the large bed and fell asleep in a second, momentarily forgetting the trouble she was in.

* * *

**There we go, chapter five. Hope you enjoyed it! If you have any ideas for further chapters, please don't hesitate to tell me!**

**~U-Hinged**


	6. Talks of a Neon Nylon

**Yeesh, sorry it took so long to post this. It's really only a filler chapter but whatevs! ENJOY!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but L!**

* * *

_It was dark. L stood in the middle of a street, staring down it into the fog. The lamplights flickered as a figure stepped through the shadows. L had to squint her eyes to see who it was and when she did, a smile washed over her face._

"_Bond!"_

_Upon hearing her voice he turned to look at her. L began running towards him but before she got close, he pulled out a gun and aimed it straight at her. She furrowed her brow in confusion._

"_What are you doing, Bond?" she asked._

"_You betrayed us." he stated darkly._

"_What? No, no see I had a plan. I had a plan; I was going to help-"_

"_STOP LYING TO ME!" he shouted, making her jump in surprise. "I trusted you." he cocked the gun and put his finger on the trigger._

"_Just a minute James. Just-just calm down and let me explain-"_

_BANG_

_L froze and stared down at her chest, but no blood was there. She looked up just in time to see Bond's face before he fell to the ground. It was filled with a look of utter betrayal._

"_No." she whispered._

"_Oh yes." came another voice. Following James's path from the darkness, came Silva, just putting his gun back in the holster. "And now the mighty James Bond is dead, all thanks…to you."_

"_No. no, no, no, no! I had a plan."_

"_It's too late darling. There is no going back now."_

"_NO!"_

…

L shot up from her bed, sweat covering her body and her eyes blurry. Adrenaline coursed through her veins and she began to panic, thoughts of things that might go wrong filling her head. She leapt through the covers and off the bed. She began banging on the bullet proof window, her breath turning ragged and fast.

"Oi, what's goin' on in there?!" shouted a voice from the other side of the door.

She stopped and stared wide eyed and silent at the door. _Get a grip _she thought to herself _you want them to find out?_ She took a deep, shaky breath and let it out slowly, backing away from the window. She heard a scuffle on the other side of the door.

"Get out of my way." rang the Spanish voice. Once more she panicked and ran into the bathroom, turning on the shower tap. She shut the door just in time for him to open the other one.

"What is going on in here?" he shouted. L kept silent but she could hear him walking around the room. "Darling? Where are you?" he voice became soft.

Right at that moment, she opened the bathroom door and peaked out, causing him to jump once more.

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that. Couldn't get the bloody shower to work."

Clutching his heart, he leaned against her bedside table. "Yes well." he cleared his throat and his face changed completely. His mouth formed a tight, little smile and his eyebrows reached his hairline.

"Perhaps you would like some help?" L's face flushed as her eyes widened.

"Uh…no thanks."

"Are you sure?" he purred moving ever closer to the door. "Because I'm told I am a fabulous plumber."

"And I'm sure you are, but at the moment I can manage." and she threw the door shut right as he lunged for it. She heard a soft bang from the other side and knew that he had slammed into it. A mischievous smile played on her lips as she listened to him grunt with pain.

"Very well, I expect you downstairs in half an hour. We have work to do!"

…

Silva stood over the plans L had made the night before in the basement. He thought about the young woman and smiled. She was definitely something that was for sure, but he couldn't help but feel slightly weary around her, like she was up to something. He pushed away the feeling and continued to stare at the papers until he heard the large concrete door open.

"Thanks for sending your civil protection guys to pick me up, boss man. Real sweet."

He grinned at her as she strutted through the doors followed by two large men with guns poised at her head. The look on her face read simply, _'you're really pushing your luck.' _The two men looked to him and he nodded slightly. They lowered their guns and stepped back from the woman.

"Better." she stated.

Silva gestured to the table in the centre of the room, surrounded by computers and other technological wonders.

"Yeah, yeah, I got it."

A soon as L stepped up to the table, her eyes glazed over and she was completely immersed. Silva smiled and left the guards at the door, leaving to keep his other appointments. When Silva shut the door, L breathed a sigh of relief.

She was never good at working with an authority figure watching. She stood back from the table and scrutinized the blueprints, her dream occupying her mind. Suddenly the door flew open and a group of men entered, moving around to what looked like their designated areas.

"Uh, what's going on here?" L asked confused. A young man stepped up and held out his hand.

"Sean Hamlon. Mr. Silva sent us to assist you. We're at your disposal, ma'am."

The mans American accent threw her off for a minute but she shook his hand.

"Alright Hamlon, let's get to work."

She explained to the men all the entrances and exits of MI-6, her voice confident but her mind was now roaring with the thought of what would happen if she messed this up.

She pushed such thought from her head and finished her lecture. Right away, they got to work, L watching them from the centre of the room, a small smile creeping its way up her face.

"I have a _team_."

…

Silva strutted up the stairs from the basement, feeling oh so high and mighty. He never suspected that below him, a young woman was planning his demise in a room filled with his own personal entourage.

But soon enough Silva's thoughts were turned from his little prisoner as he made his way to the liquor cabinet. He stopped abruptly before entering his study, catching sight of two men sitting on his sofa sharing a drink. Silva turned swiftly and began to creep away but cringed when a high, clipped voice filled his ears.

"Silva, dear fellow, I was starting to think you had forgotten about us."

Silva turned and plastered a fake smile on his face. "I don't think I could ever forget you Martin."

"Yes, well sadly, my comrade and I have not come here for pleasantries."

"Then why did you take my liquor?"

"Silva," the other man boomed. Compared to Martin he was a giant. "Our employer has only recently heard of your attack on MI-6. He is interested in making a partnership."

Silva fixed the men with a cold glare. "And he sent you two lackeys to tell me this? Why does he not come himself?"

"He is…indisposed." the two men shared a knowing look.

"Very well, did he state a meeting place?"

"Yes. The Neon Nylon, 8;00 tomorrow evening."

Silva choked in his drink. "Excuse me, would you repeat that?"

"The Neon Nylon. Be there Silva."

As the two men turned to leave, Martin called over his shoulder.

"And I suggest you bring someone with you this time. We all know how very _fond_ he is of you."

They left, leaving a slightly confused Silva in their wake. When he heard the door slam he slumped in the armchair and poured himself another drink.

"Silva!" a voice shouted at him. He looked up and saw L standing their, her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face. The two guards stood behind her, looming. His eyes glazed over as an idea formed in his head.

He got up slowly from the chair and crept towards her, as if he were a hunter and she was a small zebra which could leg it at any moment.

"What are you doing you psycho? Wait, what's with that look on your face? Silva?"

* * *

**Alright, so? Thoughts? Any ideas? GIVE THEM TO ME!**

**~U-Hinge**


	7. Westwood

**Well here ya go, sorry for the wait. Chapter 7 seven with an added special guest.**

**Hint: I have recently become a Sherlock fan. BBC. Cheer for me.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing Bond or my special guest. Simply L.**

* * *

"Stop fussing you impossible woman."

L stood behind the intricate Chinese screen, scrutinizing every crease and fold in the deep violet strapless dress she now wore, but she had yet to do her makeup. One the other side of the screen, Silva nursed his newly bloodied nose while trying to tie a formal black bowtie.

"If you didn't want blood all over your goddamn suit you should have kept your hands to yourself."

Silva grumbled darkly, wiping the remaining blood from his face with a white handkerchief. He turned to look at the screen and narrowed his eyes, standing up and making his way over to it.

"Are you finished yet?" he called.

"Eh, it's not really working for me." L called back. "Why am I going to this with you again?"

L heard the distinct click of a gun and spun around, only to come face to face with a revolver. She looked up at Silva, confused for a moment, until she saw the anger in his narrowed eyes. Her mouth became a thin line and she put her hands on her hips.

"What are you going to do, Silva? Shoot me? Come on then, do it. DO IT!"

_BANG_

* * *

A man stands in the centre of a large room, laden with silk purple sheets. He straightens the tie on his neatly pressed suit and smiles, putting his hands in his pockets.

"Phillip?" the man calls. His voice is higher and softer than most men's and it is mixed with an Irish accent.

"Yes sir?" a blonde young man races into the room, carrying a brown package and a bottle of gin.

"What time is my appointment again?" he asked, checking himself in the mirror again.

"An hour, sir."

"Good. Now be a dear and tell Sebastian to have the car waiting for me outside."

"…yes sir."

As he leaves, the Irish man presses the creases out of his suit gently and winks at his reflection.

"Westwood."

* * *

"YOU DAMNABLE WOMAN!"

L tried to keep a stoic expression but her bottom lip quivered slightly and her eyes kept flickering to the bullet lodged in the floor right by her foot. Silva gripped the gun, his whole arm shaking with rage.

"Why do not just do as you are _TOLD_ without _QUESTION_!?"

"Because, I'm not one of your _WHORES_ who's at your beck and call! I'm an MI-6 agent, _DAMMIT_!"

By now Silva was breathing hard and rage filled his narrowed eyes. He turned and left the room, grabbing his dinner jacket.

"Hurry now, I will _not_ be late!"

L turned back to the mirror and finished putting her makeup on, though it was hard when her hands kept shaking. Finally, she gave up and seized her coat from the desk, heading out to the car after Silva.

…

The car ride to the club was highly uncomfortable. L sat as far as she could from Silva who did the same. Both kept sneaking glances at the one another while the other wasn't looking and huffing impatiently when they did not look back.

L burned holes into the back of the seat in front of her and Silva stared daggers at pedestrians outside. At last Silva looked at L and hung his head.

"I'm-"

"Don't."

Silva looked up and saw her glaring at him but not as intensely as before. She nodded towards his window.

"We're here."

The Bentley rolled up in front of a tall elegant hotel with the words Neon Nylon beautifully carved on the front. Silva stepped out followed by L, both of them staring incredulously at the striking building.

"This is the it?"

"I suppose so."

"Huh," L said. "I thought it would be more…strip clubby."

The two walked close together up the wide stone staircase to the door where tow large guards stood, letting people in.

"Bouncers." L whispered, only to be silenced by Silva.

Silva stepped up the men and grasped L's hand, keeping her close. He handed them a card and their eyes widened when they saw it.

"Please Mr. Silva, go right ahead."

Silva looked down at L and smirked causing her to roll her eyes and allow herself to be led into the stunning foyer. It was absolutely packed with people dressed to the nines. Women in long evening gowns and men in perfectly tailored suits.

"Wow."

"Your continuous use of one word sentences is growing steadily more annoying."

She fixed him with a glare but followed him as he made his way through the sea of people. As she looked around, she felt a growing suspicion that these people knew exactly who she was because they kept staring at her with strange looks on their faces.

"Um, Silva, are _all_ these people, you know…criminals?"

"Oh heavens yes. This When the unlawful want to meet each other they schedule a meeting here. They've changed the name of the place since I was last here though."

"_SILVA!"_

The two twirled quickly and a grin broke out on Silva's face. He quickly let go of L and walked briskly towards the man who called his name.

"Jim."

They grasped hands and beamed at each other. L stared, with her head cocked, at the other man. He was shorter than Silva and he was Irish, which was about all she could figure out.

"How long has it been?" Silva sked.

"I'd say at least three years since the incident in Paraguay. Too long in any case."

"You're suit is absolutely spectacular."

"Westwood."

L could hardly contain her laughter as she watched the two compliment each other like a pair of old women. That is until Jim noticed her.

"And who is this darling creature?" he asked, taking slow steps towards her.

"An agent I took off of MI-6." Silva stated proudly.

"You didn't." Jim gasped, looking surprised as he examined her. L shied away from him but he took her hand and brought it to his lips.

"James Moriarty." he purred. "And you are?"

L looked away from him and down at the floor.

"Ah, I see confidentiality and all that. Don't worry my dear I understand completely." he looked back at Silva. "Holmes Sr. won't be too happy about this."

"The Holmes boys are _your_ area of expertise, Jim."

"Yes I know."

"Mr. Silva?" a voice came from behind them. The trio turned to see an older man standing very serious with his hands behind his back. "Mr. Carmichael is ready to see you."

"Carmichael? What do you want to do with him?" Jim asked Silva, confused. Silva simply shook his head and followed the old man, leaving Moriarty and L staring after him.

"Well, it would seem it is just you and I darling. May I have the blessing of buying you a drink?"

"It would seem I am in great need of one, yes."

* * *

**AHAHA! Hope I scared you with that gunshot. Anywho, yes, there will be fighting and epicness in the next chapter and who knows, mayhaps more Sherlock characters will lose their way and stumble into my story.**

**Hope you enjoyed.**

**~U-Hinge**


	8. Carmichael and a Gunshot

**YOYO! Let's start with the fact that I own nothing but L, and all that. Done? Good. So I've just noticed that I have had about 5,517 views. That's...really awesome! You guys are rockin'. **

**Also, to a certain _ANON_ who reviewed here recently, I did have a good day, thank you so much...I love you.**

**Alright, lets get started, but I warn you, emotional rollercoaster coming up. Big time!**

**BAM! *pregnant***

* * *

"Raoul Silva to see you sir."

Silva inhaled the smell of the cigars being smoked around him. Sitting across from him in a great brown leather chair was a large man holding a glass of what seemed to be gin. He leered at Silva with a grin on his face and waved a portly hand at him.

"Silva! Wonderful to see you my boy! Please sit."

He sat and regarded the man with a guarded look.

"What is it you want, Carmichael?"

"Oh, must we be so unfamiliar?"

Silva glared at him sharply and Carmichael pursed his lips. He stared at his glass and continued.

"Very well, straight to business then. Word has it that you're going after Bond, is that it?"

"What of it?"

"Well you see James Bond is a rare breed of man. He does not stop for just death."

Silva's face took on a rather confused look as he watched Carmichael pour himself another drink.

"Again, what of it?"

* * *

_**Meanwhile**_

Jim led L to the bar, keeping her close as they past narrow eyed men and simpering women. L had never seen so many criminals in one place before, some of these people she had seen on Most Wanted posters all over Britain, some she had even seen being brought in for questioning, and some she even knew to be dead, laying in the morgue in MI-6.

"What may I grace you with?" Moriarty asked all of a sudden, motioning to the bar and pulling out a silver plastic card.

"Oh really, you don't have to-

"Your card would be instantly recognized here." he whispered to her. "You would be silently and with no commotion, taken outside and thoroughly beaten. After that they would set the dogs on you while open firing on your body. _Let me._"

L stared at him with wide eyes as a small smile worked its way up his face.

"You sure know how to chat a girl up. I'll have a bijou."

Moriarty smirked and gave the card to the bartender, who in turn ran it through a small machine which emitted a loud beep once it had passed through. He handed the card back to Jim.

"I'll have a gin."

L took this chance to look around a bit more and could barely believe her eyes at what she saw in the corner of the large room.

"_Bond_." she breathed.

"Hmm? What was that?" Jim looked up from his gin.

"Nothing." she said, still staring at James Bond. "Will you excuse me? I have to use the washroom."

"Mm, be my guest."

She hopped off the bar stool and walked slowly, carefully over to the bathroom, her heart pounding against her chest. If that were him, really him, it would make her plan much easier. She fished her hand in her clutch and closed her fingers around her lipstick. Smirking, she took it out and stepped carefully behind a column by the washroom.

Quickly as she could she lobbed it across the room and it smacked James in the side of the head. She could see him bending over, clutching his head and looking around in confusion. What a baby. L purposly turned to face him before sashaying down the corridor. Of course, Bond followed close behind, still holding his head.

"Hey," he shouted at her, "what the hell was that?!"

She kept going till they reached the end of the hall and then she shoved him quickly into an empty room. It turned out to be a broom cubbard. She turned and looked at him.

"L?" he asked. "Oh my- thank God your alright!" he went to grab her but she put a hand on his chest.

"Listen to me and listen to me carefully, Bond. We don't have much time."

He stared at her for a moment before adopting his serious look. "Yes?"

"I'm going to help Raoul Silva kidnap you."

His face went from serious to confused to just plain stupid in all of one second.

"What!?"

"Shh, keep your voice down, will you? You'll get us caught!"

"Well, how do you expect me to react?"

"Listen to me, for God's sake! I have a plan and I need you to relay it to M. For the love of God, this is one plan we _cannot_ mess up."

His brow furrowed, he looked down at her then nodded. "What is it?"

"Well, for one thing, we'll need one hell of a lot of agents."

* * *

"And so, I strapped the bomb on the woman in the car and made her phone him."

"How did you make sure she didn't tell him who you were?"

"Had a gun trained on her, goodness my dear, you really know nothing of criminals, do you?"

"Unfortunatly no, I just decipher the codes."

"You poor, poor thing."

L had returned to the bar and had already finished two kamikazees as she watched James Bond exit through the front doors. For such a criminal goldmine, the place was _not_ very well guarded. Now she listened to Jim's stories about the great mind battle between himself and a one Mr. Sherlock Holmes. Some parts were rather gruesome and she felt horrible listening to them, but other parts were rather funny. All in all, she quite enjoyed the ocmpany of the Consulting Criminal.

* * *

"Who is that precious thing you've brought with you?" Carmichael asked, his attention straying from the subject.

Silva turned to where he pointed and saw L walking back to the bar from what looked like the bathroom. He watched as she sat down next to with Jim. They were talking, laughing and once in a while, L's face would turn to complete shock, causing Moriarty to laugh even more.

All of a sudden, as if feeling his eyes on them, the two turned to look at him. Jim raised a concerned brow but Silva merely shook his head. L simply looked at both of them, puzzled.

"That is James Moriarty, you know-"

"Not him, you idiot!" he shouted, startling Silva. Carmichael looked worried for a moment and then laughed nervously. He then said in a calm voice that sounded horribly forced. "The girl."

"A friend."

"Funny, I've never seen her here before. She is quite a darling thing though."

Silva's eyes narrowed.

"What interests you so?"

The grin that graced Carmichael's face was enough to send shivers down Silva's spine, but he kept his cool.

"I know that girl, you know." Carmichael said, taking a drink from his glass. "She was the one who got me caught last year in Bermuda."

Silva leaned back in his chair, putting on his charming smile and draping his hand over the armrest, beginning to make strange gestures with his hand. Across the bar, Moriarty's eyes narrowed slightly and he quickly and quietly leaned close to L's ear.

"Is that so?"

"Oh yes, she deciphered a code that took me years to make, years! Then of course they sent Bond after me. It took all of eight months for my men to get me out of jail and by then all my investors had gone else where."

The look he adopted then was venomous indeed. He leaned in but Silva stayed where he was, eyeing him.

"Kill the girl; send her body to MI-6. It'll be a great shock for them, I'd say, their best linguist suddenly killed. We tell them, until they give up Bond, another one will die every week. Whaddya say, eh?"

Silva's face was a picture of surprise, which would actually be rather funny if this had not been one of those moments when it wasn't.

"You are a fool." Silva began to chuckle. "If you have not been _paying attention_, Carmichael, you may have noticed I was nearly killed myself trying to do that exact thing!"

Silva stood up abruptly and glared down at the portly man in the chair.

"You have wasted enough of my time."

As he turned to leave, he was stopped by two men with guns trained on him.

"I apologize Raoul. But we simply cannot let you leave whilst that girl is still alive, or at least while she is still in _perfect working order_." He added with a sick grin.

* * *

Jim put his glass down and when L looked at him, his face was deadly serious. He leaned close to her ear and whispered earnestly,

"Carmichael and his men are going to try and kill us. We need to make it out through the back door. Stay close to me and do try not to cause a comotion."

They began to move from the stools when a torrent of bullets fired just in front of them. They looked up and saw two gunmen trained on Silva and four gunmen trained on them.

"Four? Is that all?" she whispered to Jim.

"Isn't that enough?"

"Not in the least."

"Oh."

"Do you have a gun."

"Pocket."

"Thank _you_."

She dipped her hand into his pocket slowly, as a fat old man moved out in front of the gunmen. Moriarty giggled slightly as she felt around for the gun.

"It's not there."

"Sorry, other pocket."

L glared at him and he smiled, but she noticed his hand moving towards his other pocket. She turned her attention to the man walking towards them.

"Oh, it's you then is it? Thought I locked you away ages ago."

Jim elbowed her in the ribs.

"Oh my dear, I will so enjoy killing you." he simpered.

"Oh, you can try."

All of a sudden L twisted in front of Mriarty and quickly reached into his pocket, pulling out his gun. She turned again and aimed at the four men.

"No time to breathe, James sorry."

"No problem!"

Pulling the trigger in quick succesion, she managed to hit two of them, both in the legs. They fell to the floor and Silva made a dive for their guns. While the other four gunmen aimed at him, Moriarty pulled another gun from inside his pants and shot them two of them, both in the heart. Silva managed to grab two guns and aimed at th last two guards, shooting them both.

"Wow, that _was_ easy." Moriarty grinned.

_Click_

L felt the barrel of a gun against the back of her head. She turned slightly to see that Jim had one on his tail too. The fat man was aiming his own gun at Silva, and surprisingly everyone else in the room just sat and watched as if it were something that happened all the time.

"It is." muttered Jim, seeing the question in her eyes.

"Well," stated the fat man, "I was hoping not to get into all this. I do very much like you Silva, you too Jim."

"Flattered." Moriarty snarled.

"But I simply cannot let you leave with this girl." he nodded to the man behind L and she knew what was coming before it did.

She twirled around and swept her leg under the man, knocking him to the floor. As he went down though, his hand tightened on the trigger.

**_BANG_**

All went silent. Silva and Jim both turned to look at what had happened. L pressed a hand to her stomach and looked down at it. Blood pooled out and stained her dress. Her hand came away bloody and she looked slowly over at Jim. His face went white and she could see Silva's was the same.

Everything was in slow motion. L fell to the floor and hit it with a dull thud. Silva turned fast and kicked at the man behind him, dislocating his knee and then shooting him. Jim did the same, shooting the man on the floor and then the one behind him. Rage filled both men as they aimed their guns on the fat man in the middle of the room.

"Jim, help her." Silva said, nodding to the body of L. He nodded quickly, but shot Carmichael in the leg, sending him to the floor. Then he ran to L and pressed on the wound, hoping to stop the blood flow. A loud gunshot was heard and then a thump.

"Don't...worry." L wheezed. "I...made sure...he missed all my...vital organs."

"SILVA!"

Silva ran over to them and knelt down.

"She'll be fine, but we need to get her to a hospital." Jim said.

"No, I have a doctor. The mansion is closer."

"Then hurry, I'll get my car."

Silva picked L up in his arms and saw that her eyes were closed. Her chest heaved up and down, so she still breathed and for some reason, that releived Silva all too much.

"Raoul, COME ON!"

He raced out the front doors just as men came out of the rooms of the hotel to clean up the bodies. Silva placed L in the back seat, before climbing in himself.

"Sebastien."

"Already to go, sir."

"_Hurry_."

* * *

**Sorry all, I just had to. I'll be read for your angry and hateful comments to me. But wow, I gotta admit that was fun to write. I suggest you listen to _Rocky Road to Dublin_ during the fight scene, it's pretty funny.**

***sigh* Did I ever tell you how much I love you guys?**

**~U-Hinged**


	9. Bandages

**Sorry it took me so long, been kinda busy but I'm on it now.**

**I own nothing but L blah blah blah**

* * *

They reached the estate in less than an hour, thanks to Sebastian's insane driving and managed to rush the unconscious L through the door. A young man came speeding down the stairs, wondering what the commotion was and when he saw the three men carrying the bleeding woman, he paused.

"Get the Doctor for God's sake!" Silva shouted, and the man ran off. He came back not a few seconds later with an old man, just slipping on a robe.

"What in Heaven's name-?" He stopped when he saw the blood soaked men and gasped at the sight of L. One look from Silva told him that this was terribly urgent. He nodded quickly.

"Follow me."

He led them down the stairs and into the labyrinth of a basement, hurrying through the corridor. Eventually, he opened one of the steel doors and they found themselves in a large white room.

"Put her on the bed. You two, out." he said, pointing at Silva and Moriarty. "I'm going to need your help though." he said to Sebastian, who nodded. They place L on the hospital bed and the two men left the room, retreating upstairs for a well needed drink.

* * *

"Don't even try to deny it, Raoul." Jim said, pouring a glass of gin for himself. Silva was changing his clothes behind a screen.

"I did not deny it. I simply said you were crazy." he stepped out, wearing a crisp new white shirt. "I apologize for your suit." Moriarty shook his head and drank from the glass.

"Not a problem and don't change the subject. You're getting attached to her."

Silva took the bottle and poured the gin into his own glass. He stared into it for a minute before tipping it up and taking a swig. Jim looked pityingly at his friend.

"It can't happen Raoul. She's MI-6! They're _trained_ to do whatever it takes to get what they want."

Silva stayed silent as he moved over to the fireplace on the opposite wall swishing his drink thoughtfully. Moriarty came up beside him.

"She's a sweet girl, Silva, but she's on the side of the angels." he spoke darkly. "Don't think for a moment that she won't betray you the second she gets the chance."

"Well," Silva muttered. "I'll just have to keep that chance from her." He growled, throwing the last of the gin onto the fire.

* * *

_L limped desperately through the darkened halls of MI-6, leaning against the walls to keep from collapsing. Her leg was broken; she could feel the pain shooting through her with every step she took. The corridors was in ruins, much like it had been the day of Silva's bombing and the walls were lined with the bodies of agents. _

_L tried to ignore the blood that pooled around her boots as she made her way to Heaven knows where. It seemed that her body knew exactly where to go, seeing as she stopped in front of one of the office doors. It took her a moment to realize that it was M's office, but she pushed it open all the same._

_She held in a scream as she stared at the limp body of her friend, Eve, a bullet hole in her chest. Her feet began moving again, walking past the horrific scene to the door labeled M. Pushing it open, L's eyes narrowed with hate._

"_Ah, darling; it's about time you arrived."_

_Sitting with his feet propped up on the desk was Silva. L knew it would be him; the bastard. _

"_Why the frown, dear? I thought this was what you wanted."_

_L sputtered, "What?"_

"_Oh, no need to be modest, you did this; all of this!"_

"_No." she said defiantly, "You did this; I had nothing to do with it!"_

_He looked condescendingly at L. "Now you know that that isn't true. But that's not the point."_

"_And what pray tell is the point?"_

"_Don't you think it's about time you woke up?"_

_L paused. "What?"_

_He pushed himself off the chair and strutted over to her. With every step he took forward, she took one back until she was up against the wall. He bent down slightly so that he was eye level with L and, taking her face in his large callused hands, he smiled._

"_Wake up darling."_

"_What the hell- I am awake!" L moved to push his hands away but he swatted hers and fixed her with a playful smirk._

"_No, no, come now wake up."_

"_I don't-"_

"_Wake…__**up**__!"  
_

* * *

L gasped as she sprang forward, her head pounding and side throbbing in pain. Instinctively, her hand went for the injury but all she felt were bandages.

Then she become conscious of the fact that she didn't have her dress on anymore, only her bra and undershorts. Panicking, L stared around the room she was in; it looked like a hospital room. L racked her brain trying to remember the last thing that happened. Then it came to her.

"Oh God, the Nylon!" L put her head in her hands and groaned. It all started coming back, Moriarty, the talk with James, Carmichael, getting shot.

"Wait." she breathed. Everything was a blur after the shot; L really had no way of being _sure_ _where_ she was. What if- what if she wasn't at the mansion? L ripped the IV from her arm and swung her legs over the bed, hopping down and padding over to the door.

L completely disregarded the fact that she was half naked because honestly, if she was abducted by Carmichael, she was in an arse load of trouble which she had to get out of ASAP. Her feet were bare and cold and L wrapped her arms around herself as she shivered slightly. She opened the door and poked her head around the side.

The hallway looked clear, so, as quietly as she could; L crept down, her hand lightly holding her injured side and her eyes scanning around every corner. Finally she came across a flight of stairs and, with much trudging and annoyance, managed to reach the door at the top.

Stealing herself for a moment, L gathered her wits before grasping the handle. She breathed deeply, turned the knob and practically threw herself through the door along with a _truly intimidating_ battle cry, probably tearing her stitches in the process.

L looked around quickly and breathed a sigh of relief; she was still in the mansion. Stepping out of the doorway and into the foyer, her mind wandered to the dream she had had and a slight blush crept up her cheeks when she thought of his face so close to hers. She shook her head; where did that come from? When did _she_ start _blushing?_

She set it aside as Stolkholmes Syndrome and assured herself that as soon as she returned to MI6, she would have herself checked out.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sharp click of shoes on the tiled floor. L turned her head and froze, as did the familiar towering moose of a man across the hall. Silva stood there, surprise etched onto his face and a small med kit in his hands.

His eyes flicked over her half naked body and L suddenly felt horribly exposed and the heat sneaking its way up her face was _not_ helping in the _least_.

Throwing her arms over her chest, she turned and ran down the opposite hall, her side burning. L heard Silva break into a run and shout after her, yelling at her to stop and warning her about her stitches.

"Damn it woman!"

Honestly, knew it was childish of her to run but she was simply to embarrassed to stop now. Unfortunately, her wound held her back and L was quickly overtaken by Silva, his hand grabbing her arm and spinning her around to face him.

"Honestly, can't you go one day without having me chase after you?"

"Well where would the fun be in that?"

He sighed and shook his head but as he looked down, he noticed her vast lack of clothing and his eyebrows shot up. L rolled her eyes and tugged her arm from his grip, snapping him out of his lustful trance.

"Oh yes, I was just coming to change your bandages." L looked down at her abdomen, finally noticing the blood soaked bindings.

"Yes well, I'm sure I can manage by myself, thanks very much." she went to grab the kit but he kept it out of reach.

"I'm sure you can; now come." he coaxed her towards the door across the hall. L sighed and ran a hand through her hair. _Fine,_ she thought, _you want to fix my bandages? You got it. _

She began to undo the medical tape, well she didn't _undo them_ so much as _tear at them angrily. _Silva peaked through the door of what looked to be the bathroom, to see L marching towards him with all the dignity she could muster while in her underwear. She threw the bandages to the floor and entered after Silva, who patted the countertop.

"Hop up." L did as she was told and jumped up onto the counter. Silva put the kit next to the sink and opened it, taking out the medical tape and setting it down. He leaned down and put his hands on L's stomach, looking at the stitched wound.

"You are lucky it did not tear. I would have had to re-stitch it and we wouldn't want that, would we?"

L's eyebrows shot up and she leaned closer to him. Silva gazed up at her as she moved in. The only thing going through her mind was, _What Would Bond Do? _

"Well, I'm sure _I_ wouldn't want that, but I can't exactly speak for you, can I?"

L saw the surprise flash in his eyes before he grinned seductively. Putting his hands on either side of the counter, he leaned in, his face inches from her own, as he stared at her through his brows.

"Are you inviting me, darling?"

L's face was now so close, their noses were almost touching and Silva's eyes kept flicking between her eyes and her lips. L opened her mouth slowly and Silva leaned forward a bit more.

He was about to go in for the kill when L mumbled alluringly,

"If you aren't going to change the bandages, you can give them to me and I'll do it myself."

Silva chuckled and leaned back, as he took the binding and began to wrap them around her.

"You know," he said thoughtfully, "You've been kept here for over three weeks and I still don't know your name."

"Well, that's not my fault. You never asked. I'm sure you are quite content with simply calling me woman and darling."

"Oh, come now." he pouted. L surveyed him with a raised brow then smirked. He had finished with the bandages and was now looking up at her expectantly. Leaning forward, she whispered enticingly,

"L"

She hopped off the counter and pushed past him back into the hall, leaving an immensely befuddled Silva in her wake. A smirk crept up his chiseled face as he pushed himself off the ground and walked to the door.

"You know," he called after her. "While you were...incapacitated, my men and I finished drawing up that little scheme of yours. We'll be ready to put it into action tomorrow night at the latest."

L froze in her place and cocked her head to one side, trying to keep her cool exterior while her brain began to hyperventilate.

"Oh?"

"Yes," Silva began to saunter over to her, "and after I finish with Bond, I will disappear again."

"Hmm," L could feel his strong arms wrapping around her small torso.

"You know," he whispered into her ear, "London is so dreary, Spain is much nicer."

"What are you implying, Mr. Silva?" she asked, trying to become unemotional, though the goosebumps working their way up her arms were not helping.

"You know what I am implying."

"If you are trying to seduce me, Mr. Silva you will be disappointed. Your moves didn't work on Bond and they won't work on me."

"Oooh, forgive me if I do not believe you." He traced a hand up her back and she shivered. "You must be cold, in nothing but your undergarments."

"I'm fine thank you." but she could feel herself leaning into his touch more and more.

"At least let me get you a blanket." L tried to deny but her voice was lost in her throat and before she knew it, Silva was leading her down the hall to the bedroom.

* * *

**Ehehehe**


End file.
